A Journey East
by notrealname
Summary: Narrated by Amara, this story takes us from our humble beginnings in Lumbridge to the very edge of our world


**Prologue - The Beginnings**

_This story takes place in the land of Gielinor, narrated by Amara, the daughter of Duke Horacio of Lumbridge._

_I have no clear plot hashed out right now, so... I'm justing waiting for reviews..._

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I had expected something around the lines of bright lights or dark voids. But, instead, I was thrust here. Why it was me, I will never know. Allow me to explain.

I had always been poor at everything - my father, Duke Horacio of Lumbridge, had noted early on that I would be a horrible politician. The Lumbridge Sage had sadly concluded that I was far too impatient to be a good scholar. And Sergeant Abram had, with his "deepest regrets", reported that I was far too undisciplined to be a good soldier.

Yet I was always in love with adventuring. It was so exciting and exotic. It was a combination of strength, skills, and intellect. Unfortunately, my father, and the rest of the people in Lumbridge (maybe not the Sage), considered adventuring an unsuitable occupation for a Duke's daughter.

So I snuck out. I grabbed a pack full of rations and a small bronze dagger, and I quietly tiptoed across the castle's yard. The excitable servant, Hans, was my primary concern. He would usually be benign and useless, but he was paranoid, and would catch me even if I were as quiet as a squirrel. So I asked one of my friends to seduce him and lead him behind the castle.

The next day, newspapers across Misthalin reported that I was missing. The Duke was in distress. My maid was crying her heart out. She was such a kind-hearted old woman. I felt horrible. Nonetheless, I decided that staying outside would be the lesser of two evils. It was somewhat difficult, what with all the search parties walking around the town. At some point, I had to rip off my clothes and dress myself in peasant cloths so that I could blend in with the crowd. I, at least, stayed far away from the East side of the Lum River. Goblins were well known for their tendency to kill, pillage, and rape towns.

I had journeyed through the swamps for the next five days. Giant rats, spiders, and the occaisional goblin were introduced to my bronze dagger. I had sustained several injuries, including a painfully damaged leg, and a somewhat large spider bite on my shoulder. I could have sworn that I saw a unicorn in the woods, but it quickly sped away. Nonetheless, the sight alone reinvigorated my will to explore.

Many people believe in karma, and that there are no coincidences. Those who do cannot possibly comprehend how quickly life ends. For me, while I was journeying through the swamps, I met my end suddenly by the highwayman. He caught me while I was bathing in a small, running stream, and stabbed me. I wasn't raped before I died, but Saradomin knows what happened to my body thereafter.

And, as I said, I had expected something other than this place. Bright lights, promised Father Aereck. That's where you go when you die. The skeptics in Lumbridge, including the Sage, had said that, rather, you descend into the void of nothingness. But none of that mattered now.

I asked, "Why me?" I asked that because, for reasons that aren't immediately clear, I wasn't dead. The Grim Reaper had seen fit to bring me back to life. I, of all the people in the world. Of all the more skilled, talented, intelligent, and strong people, I alone survived my own death.

It went something like this. Instead of bright lights or dark voids, I was in the Grim Reaper's office, naked. The Reaper had a way of looking at you. His face, and indeed, his entire body, was obscured by the shadow of his cloak. Nonetheless, the imagined gaze under the hood could make anyone shiver. I wasn't simply physically naked - I was mentally and emotionally naked. All my thoughts, beliefs, secrets - all were laid out to bare.

Aside from the Reaper himself, sitting calmly behind his mahogany desk, his office was a pretty cordial place. It lacked windows, but was brightly lit by candles. Bookshelves, desks, and various instruments and maps - it was all very erudite. The floor was slightly littered with random volumes of encyclopedias, maps, and notices. I could easily have felt comfortable here, if not for the Reaper's presence and the apparent lack of exits.

"So," said the Reaper. His voice was high, cold, and clear. "You don't fear the dead."

I guessed that he (the Reaper's voice was unmistakably male) was noting the fact that I wasn't screaming in horror. Well, perhaps I wasn't, but I was easily would have. I might've replied, if I could have come up with a reply at all. But my mind was blank, filled with screams of, "Run, Amara, run!" But I stayed; I was more afraid of the unknown, of what would happen if I left the Reaper.

The Reaper continued, "You're alive because Saradomin so graciously asked me to keep you alive."

And I mustered all my energy to make the littlest sound I could: "Why?"

"I am not privy to that information. Make no mistake, though - I will send you back amongst the living."

I would have been dumbfounded, and in fact, I very nearly was, but fear overruled my senses again. I managed, with some effort, to say, "_What?_" with a tinge of disbelief.

"That's right. You, my dear, have the dubious honor of being the first to see your own dead body, your own funeral, and your own grave. Though," he added this last part as an afterthought, "I doubt that's what Saradomin wants you to do. I'm sure the Gods have divined another purpose for you."

For this last remark, I was silent. I ran through the possibilities in my head. But I wanted to get out of here. The nakedness - it was horrifying. Not the physical aspect, but the mental aspect. But then another fear crept up - how could I satisfy the will of the Gods if I don't even know why I'm being sent back?

The Reaper must have sensed my fear, because he immediately said, "I will be cold, hard, and cruel with you. I will state the facts as I see it. You are undisciplined. You are impatient. Yet you are brave, courageous, creative, smart, and strong of heart. You will find your way."

In retrospect, it was an odd thought, to be complimented by the Reaper. But I was too absorbed with the aspects of my life upon my return. Will I spend the rest of my life in servitude under a God?

"My dear Amara," said the Reaper, suddenly standing up from his desk. "It's time. You must now wake up."

And this is how my second life began. Just as if it were a dream, I woke up into my new life.


End file.
